nostalgic contemplation
by reason to stay
Summary: south park, various couples. Contains yaoi, violence and coarse language.


"Forgive me father, for I have sinned."

Brown slivers of hair shadowed Eric Cartman's dull eyes from view. His shoulders were hunched and his lips formed a concentrated frown.

His shoulders rose and lowered as he huffed.

His thoughts were scrambled, misty. He couldn't even quite catch onto what had been pervading his mind. The ideas and memories slipped through his fingers like water. His eyes were glazed over as he thought, letting his mind run wild. So many ideas and so many thoughts, but he couldn't recall even one of them.

Cartman's whole body jumped up as a pair of fingers snapped in front of his eyes. Goosebumps rose on his arms and he shuddered as he felt himself being pulled back to Earth. He blinked a couple of times to clear his blurred vision.

"Dude, what the hell?" His friend Stan question, his black eyebrows risen high on his face.

"What?" Cartman asked in a hoarse voice. He shook his head and cleared his throat, his eyes narrowed and his fists clenched. The vulnerability on his face vanished. "What!?" he repeated, angrier this time.

"You were telling us about the Terrance and Phillip episode you saw last night and then you just spaced out, dude." Stan informed his oblivious friend. "You alright?"

"Probably fantasizing about the new Ms. Garrison." Kyle laughed mockingly.

Cartman's glare sharpened "Oi!" He barked "You shut up, you fucking Jew!"

Kyle looked up at him, eyes narrowed "Fuck you, buttfuck!" he screamed defensively.

Stan waved them off "This isn't helping!" he scolded them both "Whatever, Cartman. You left off at the part where-" Before he could finish, Cartman stood.

"Guys, I think I'm going home." he grumbled, scratching his belly tiredly. He glanced at the watch on his wrist. It had already been two hours since they had been let out of school and the three boys had sat around on the benches in the park across the street since then.

Stan furrowed his eyebrows "How come?" he asked. "We're supposed to wait for Kenny." he added in a mumbled. "It'd be mean to just ditch him."

Cartman rubbed his chin in thought and shrugged "Wait for Kenny and freeze my ass off _or_ go home and have myself some pumpkin pie." He weighed in the options and then turned his back to them. "Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow." he grumbled and shuffled towards the only exit in the chain-link fence.

"Bye." Stan waved Cartman off and then turned to Kyle, who had been making a small pile of snow in between his legs.

"Snow castle?" Stan teased with a playful smile.

Kyle grinned up at him "Snow hill, more like it." he laughed.

Stan beamed.

---

They both looked up as they noticed a car pulling up to their school across the street. _Who was leaving school so late? _The thought echoed in their hollow minds.

They both stood and went to the fence, wriggling their fingers through the holes, their curious eyes peering out at the high school.

The dark car sat their, waiting, and they stood there, waiting. It didn't move, the motor was low and the windows were tinted. Strange it was.

The two boys looked at each other. Maybe they were lost.

"We should check it out." Stan said and made for the exit. Kyle caught his hand "Hell no!" he cried out "It could be someone dangerous." he added in a whisper.

"Someone dangerous?" laughed Stan "In South Park?" he shook his head as if there was no such thing.

He glanced both ways before he crossed the street, Kyle gripping onto his hand for dear life.

"This isn't a good idea." Kyle whimpered as Stan approached the car.

Stan reached out a gloved hand and tapped on the glass three times consecutively.

The electric window opened a crack.

"Yes?" purred a sultry voice.

Kyle gnawed on his index finger nail and squeezed Stan's hand in his own.

"We noticed you've been parked out here for a while and wondered if you might need some help." Stan said brightly.

"No." the voice denied his assistance.

"Oh." Stan muttered.

"Let's go, Stan." Kyle hurried and gave him a light pull.

"Are you sure?" Stan questioned, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Stan..." Kyle whined.

"Yes." the voice said, sounding a bit annoyed.

"Let's go!" Kyle tugged Stan back towards the park, Stan stumbled after him.

"Bye!" he called out to the car as he walked after Kyle.

"God damn it, Stan." Kyle scolded as they made it back to the park. "Are you trying to get us killed?" he asked, his eyes wide in horror at the thought of dying at the hands of a pedophile.

"No, I just thought they might need some help." Stan muttered and shrugged his broad shoulders. Kyle rolled his eyes "You can't just butt into people's business like that." he grumbled and fixed his green cap. Stan remained silent, staring down at the snowy pavement as they waited for Kenny.

---

By the time Kenny arrived, it had begun to snow and the sun had gone down. The recognizable orange blur in the distance sent the two friends hearts flying.

"Kenny!" called Kyle, waving his hand in salutations towards his approaching friend.

"Hey." Kenny grinned as he reached them. It had taken him two years to save up enough money for a new coat, one that was a bit too big but didn't muffle out his words when the boy tried to speak.

Kyle slapped the palm of his hands to Kenny's in a high five and Stan hugged the Blondie happily.

"Cartman left already." Kyle informed Kenny with a shrug of his shoulders. Kenny shrugged the comment off with a wave of his hand "I didn't expect him to wait for me anyways." he muttered.

Stan nudged him in the ribs "So where are we off to?" he asked with a bright smile. Kenny shrugged "Let's just hang out at the mall for a while, I don't feel like partying or anything." he mumbled.

Kyle lifted an eyebrow "Seriously?" he asked incredulously.

Kenny shrugged.

Stan hooked his arm with Kenny's "Come on, Kenny. It's Friday. Surely you can come up with something better than that." he piped up.

Kenny scratched his chin "We could go dancing." he grumbled.

Kyle slowly shook his head "I don't know how to dance." he whined.

Stan rolled his eyes "You don't have to know how to dance to go dancing, Kyle." he said as-a-matter-of-factly. Kenny's grin spread from ear to ear.

"You just got to know how to pick up some hoes, dude."

---

After stopping at Stan's house for a change of clothes, the three went to Kyle's home.

Kyle quietly turned the key in its slot and unlocked the front door to his house, his turned the knob as slowly as possible and then opened the door a crack. The second the crack reached one inch of width, chubby fingers with bright red nails tore the door open the rest of the way.

"Kyle Broflovski, where have you been!?" Sheila screamed, her green eyes narrowed in rage at her son and his friends. Kyle flinched and took a step away from his mother.

"We were walking around for a bit." he said truthfully.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?!" the chubby woman barked.

"Six." Kyle said after Stan mumbled the answer into his ear.

"By what time do you have to be home!?" Sheila barked, stepping aside to let the teens into the bright home. Kyle bit his lip "Four." he mumbled.

"Yes, four." Sheila growled "And why at four?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest as if though imitating a bodyguard.

Kyle's eyes widened as he spotted the light blue figure by the stairs.

"Because you're at work and Ike's home alone and I have to take care of him." Kyle answered, puffing out his cheeks as he realized his mistake.

"Mom please, it's Friday." Kyle begged his mom for mercy.

Kenny and Stan stood like statues behind Kyle, their expressions unreadable.

Sheila glared "If you go out, you take your brother with you." she sentenced.

A look of utter devastation spread across Kyle's face, so much for dancing.

"He's not even my real-" "DON'T YOU DARE BRING THAT UP!" Sheila's voice boomed throughout the house. Kyle stumbled back into his friends.

Kyle glanced at Ike from the corner of his eyes, his expression softening as he spotted tears glistening in his brothers' eyes.

"It doesn't matter. I don't want to hang out with them anyways." Ike sniffed and raced up the stairs.

Kyle clenched his fists as a wave of guilt washed over him.

"We're just going to go, Mrs. Broflovski." Stan decided after a while, shoving an amused Kenny towards the door. "Sorry to be a bother." he muttered.

The doors to the house and Ike's room slammed shut at the same time.

Kyle faced his mother and gasped his mothers hand print etched its way across his face. His eyes watered at the stinging pain and his hand rose to his cheek.

"Go to your room, you're grounded." Sheila growled and Kyle retreated up the stairs.

As he reached the top of the staircase, he glanced at his younger brothers' door.

A white piece of paper had been taped onto it reading 'I hate Kyle'.

Kyle glared down at his feet and walked into his own room, slamming and locking the door after him. His cheek still stung but he was sure the pain would vanish in three... two... _tap_.

Kyle grinned and ran to his window, pulling the glass up over his head and poking his head out. Kenny and Stan both stood under him, grinning upwards.

"Hurry up, loser." Stan rushed and bit his lip nervously, glancing around the backyard.

Kyle nodded and ran back into the room, stripping from his school clothes and pulling on dark denim jeans and an olive green shirt. He snatched a black sweater and then rushed to the window, climbing out and onto the branch of a tree set right beside his home. He crawled and then grabbed onto the rope of a tire swing, falling down and crashing into Stan's open arms.

Stan snickered slightly and then hooked his arm with Kyle's, luring him around the house and towards the street in a trot. Kenny followed after them, glancing backwards for any sign of on looking neighbors.

---

After jogging for what seemed like hours, the three slowed as they neared the thumping beat of a recently opened dance club. Kyle's head perked up, his grin spread wide. "This is gunna be awesome." he laughed towards his friends. "Too bad Cartman couldn't come." Stan muttered.

"He won't be missed." Kenny snickered as the three entered the intoxicating atmosphere.

Smoke curled its way up their nostrils and stung their eyes. Lights flashed and blinded while the same beat of a familiar techno song deafened.

"Let's find a booth." Kenny screamed into their ears and they nodded in agreement.

Pushing and shoving through the crowds hadn't been as easy as expected but their efforts paid off as they fell into a round booth, secluded from the noise, lights and smoke.

Kyle wiped sweat from his forehead and peeled off his sweater. Stan snickered and leaned against the table "It's packed, huh?" he pointed out in a snicker.

Kenny cleared his throat "Don't look now but Mr. Sarcasm and his idiot friends at two o'clock."

Not quite catching the first part of Kenny's warning, the two looked up, their eyes wide and as predicted, Craig and his three lackeys were making their way over.

Kyle rolled his eyes and glared in another direction. "Hey." he greeted dryly.

"Hey guys." Clyde waved from behind Craig's shadow.

Token gave them the peace sign with his fingers and crossed his arms over his chest.

Tweek smiled a cracked smile and waved a jittery wave.

"What do you guys want?" Kenny asked, immediately taking the defensive. The four had never offered good news to the boys. As he asked this, he flexed his fingers, letting them crack as they pleased.

Craig smirked, proud that the boys found him as a threat "Can we share booths?" he asked, his voice dull as usual.

Stan nodded "Sure." he smiled brightly.

Kyle scooted down in the leather seat as Clyde and Token squeezed in.

Kenny stood "Take my place, I'm going hunting." he grinned and winked off at a group of the female gender. A few steps and the blonde vanished in the mass mob of people.

Craig nodded for Tweek to sit down, which he did, and then glanced backwards to the crowd. "Let's order some drinks." he grinned. Kyle's head perked up "We're not old enough." he pointed out crossly.

Craig reached into his back pocket, unsheathing a brand-new ID, the fake kind to be exact.

Kyle rolled his eyes "It looks totally fake." he said, slapping his forehead.

"Like they care." Craig said, walking off towards the bar.

Token stood "I'm going to fish out some pretty ladies." he grinned. Clyde jumped up and pulled himself and Token into the crowd before he could get any other word in. Kyle glanced at Tweek, who twitched nervously in his spot.

"Dude, you okay?" Kyle asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tweek nodded shakily "Just, you know, the whole pressure of this place... It's killing me!" his hands clenched and his gaze rose as Craig approached them, a bottle of alcohol in each hand.

He set them down on the table "Whiskey for the real men." he said, glancing at Stan. "And Vodka for the pussies." he taunted, glancing from Kyle to Tweek.

Kyle glared "Fuck you! I can take Whiskey!" he lied.

Craig's middle finger stuck out right in between Kyle's eyes "Want to bet I can do more shots than you?" he challenged. Kyle bit his lip, his eyes widening slightly.

"Fine!" Kyle accepted without really thinking about it.

Craig grinned wildly and shoved Tweek further down the booth. He pulled four shot glasses from a compartment under the table and set them down on the table before them.

Tweek shook his head "I don't want to drink." he squealed.

Craig glared and Tweek looked down.

"AGH! P-Peer pressure!" he cried out.

"Fuck, shut up Tweek." Craig said, annoyed. "Here, take the Vodka." he pushed the bottle to the blonde and then poured Whiskey for the other three.

Stan took his shot glass awkwardly and stared down at the liquid in it.

Kyle stared at him, half wishing Stan would back out just to have an excuse to back out as well.

Craig smirked darkly and snatched his shot, downing it in less than seconds.

Kyle's eyes widened and his lip trembled. Stan mimicked Craig's movement but made a retching noise as he savored the taste of the strong drink. He coughed and held his mouth, glaring angrily at Craig. Kyle fingered the edge of his glass, unsure of what to do.

"Wait, wait. What do I get if I win?" Kyle asked, secretly stalling.

Craig shrugged "Anything you want." he said after a while, sure that Kyle wasn't going to win.

"You get to be my personal slave for a week." Kyle grinned after thinking it over. Stan began to laugh and Craig shrugged "Whatever." he said. "Same goes for me, then." he smirked deviously.

Stan glanced at Kyle and then at Craig "Me too." he agreed and snickered slightly.

Kyle bit his lip, it was his turn.

He rose the edge of the glass to his lips and in one swift movement, tilted his head and swallowed. The liquid burned it's way down his throat. His eyes widened and he gasped, letting out breathless coughs and a small whimper.

This was going to be a long night.

---

Seventy-five.

All of them had had seventy-five shots last night and now, Kyle had woken up in a house he didn't recognize, with an arm he didn't recognize around his waist and... Naked.

He sat up suddenly, pushing the arm from him.

"Who are-" he didn't even finish his question, his eyes wide in horror as he stared down at the raven-haired boy. His face flushed and he shoved the male away from him.

"CRAIG!" he squealed in horror and glanced to his other side, he leapt to his feet as he spotted another bunch of black hair. "ST-STAN?!" he screamed.

Cold sweat ran down his forehead and he glanced around in horror at his two friends. His stomach clenched and he keeled over, retching over the tile floor.

"Stop screaming, damn it." groaned Craig, twisting around in his spot.

"Seriously." Stan grumbled in agreement.

Silence shrouded the room and the two boys leaped out of the bed in unison.

"What the fuck are you doing in my bed?!" Craig screamed, his eyes wide.

Stan's hands came up over his bare stomach and he groaned. Kyle stepped towards him but turned his back to him as he realized they were all nude. Craig snatched his bed covers, Kyle covered himself with his hands and Stan added to the puke already on the floor.

"Did you- Did we- How did- Why?!" Craig screamed.

Kyle winced at a bunch of pains coming from all over his body. He hugged his arms to himself and fell to his knees as a horrible pain rippled from his behind. Stan groaned and fell onto his back "Fuck." he groaned. Craig glanced at both of them "Get out." he said, his eyes remained frog-like.

"Get me some water, god fucking damn it!" Stan gasped, his face was a sickly green and loud rumbles were emitting from his belly. He rose his blue-eyed gaze to Kyle "Are you alright?" he asked hoarsely.

Craig dropped his bed covers and snatched his pants, pulling them up to his hips and rushing into the bathroom. Kyle bit his lip "My ass hurts." he whimpered.

They remained silent as it struck them. Last night had been a night of pure drunkenness and ecstasy. They didn't want to believe it but that's what the clues led to.

Craig returned with a glass of water, handing it to Stan, who chugged it down gratefully.

After he finished, he pulled himself up and dressed in silence, growing frustrated when he couldn't find his underpants. He did the zipper on his jeans and then took hold of Kyle's arm, helping him to his feet. Kyle looked up at him, pain reflecting in his eyes. Craig rubbed his face "Look, if this gets out, my rep'll be ruined." he growled "So you keep your mouths shut and I'll do the same."

Stan nodded in agreement "Seriously, Wendy'll have my head."

Kyle's frown deepened "I can't find my clothes anywhere." he grumbled.

Craig glanced around "I'll let you borrow some." he grumbled and walked to his closet, pulling a dark blue shirt from its hanger and unclipping a pair of jeans. Kyle took them and slipped his thin body into the clothes. He had some trouble keeping the pants up, but other than that the clothes fit him fine.

Stan took hold of Kyle's hand "We're leaving, OK?" he informed Craig.

Craig nodded "I'll lead you out." he grumbled and went to the door, twisting the knob and creeping out into the sunlit hall. Stan and Kyle followed after but the three of them stopped dead as the smell of sizzling breakfast foods reached their nostrils. Craig's parents were awake and they were sure that this was a situation that'd be more than difficult to explain.

Craig poked his head into the kitchen, his mothers back was to the door. Craig signaled to the door, a panicked expression on his face. Stan and Kyle raced to the door, opening it quietly and running out into the snowy outdoors, leaving Craig and that one night stand behind.

None of them recalled what had happened that night and the confusion of whether they wanted to know or not overcrowded their tiny minds.

---

A hoarse gasp escaped a pair of chaffed lips. Pip wriggled his fingers and licked his dry lips as he regained consciousness. He turned his broken body onto his back and stared up at the ceiling of his dark room. He breathed evenly through his nose and slowly sat up. Scabbed scars tainted his arched back and his blonde hair hung around his head like a curtain.

He looked up suddenly as a toilet flushed in his bathroom. He pulled his covers up to hide away his fragile body. "H-Hello?" he asked, his British accent not getting any lighter.

The door turned and from the room emerged the dark figure of his past lover. Damien's black eyes glanced at the weak boy, a malicious smirk carved on his face and his eyes glinting evilly.

"Hey bitch." Damien taunted and slammed the door shut behind him.

Pip pulled his knees up to his chest and stared down at his bare feet poking out from under the bed sheets. "I don't see why you call me that." he mumbled.

Damien rolled his eyes "I call you that because if you squeal, look and act like a bitch then you most probably are one." he snickered.

Pip bit his lip and pulled his gangly legs over the edge of the bed, not daring to look up at Damien, who had his eyes set on the pathetic boy. "What if we don't do this anymore?" Pip suggested hopefully, his small hand grabbing onto the side of his neck, where a bundle of hickeys situated themselves.

"How about you shut up?" Damien snapped and Pip winced. "And look at me when I talk to you." The demanding boy snarled and Pip did as he was told, raising his teary gaze to him.

Damien's smirk grew twice its size in satisfaction and he snatched his black shirt, pulling it back on and hiding his pale torso from Pip's eyes. Pip bit his lip in another fragile attempt "I'm just saying that you hurt me a lot when we do these things." he mumbled "Why can't we do it like a normal couple?" his voice broke as he finished the question.

"Call me when you get a pussy." Damien scowled as he fixed his hair in a mirror placed over a desk. Pip stared at him and fiddled with his fingers nervously "You know what I mean, Damien." he muttered. Damien rose an eyebrow "And what if I don't?" he snorted, obviously getting where Pip was going with this. "Why can't we act like a normal couple?" Pip blurted out finally.

Damien turned to look at Pip, his coal black eyes suddenly went red and his fists were clenched. His response came out in a venomous growl, hissy but understandable.

"Because we're NOT normal."

Pip flinched and looked away. He apologized in a whisper and then picked his clothes up off the floor, he began to dress quietly. He could still feel Damien's piercing glare on him as he did.

As he fixed his dark brown bow-tie, Damien hovered in front of him, glowering down at the puny boy. Pip took a step back "What did I do now?" he asked in a whisper.

Damien grabbed his arms "I just wanted to let you know." he grumbled and pushed Pip back against the wall. Pip whimpered and turned his face away. "P-Please." he whimpered, a small tear etched its way down his rosy cheek. Damien let out a snicker "Don't ever break." he warned.

Pip stared, his eyes wide "What? I don't understand..." he said, his shoulders shaking as he let a few more tears dot their way from his eyes.

"I don't play with broken toys." and with that, Damien released him and left out the bedroom door.

Pip's eyes lowered to the floor and he slid down to the floor. His nose was red and beginning to run, more tears escaped his eyes. "Toy?" he sobbed. Was that all he was?

He brought his knees up to his chest and cried into them. Was that what Damien wanted him to be? He sniffled and wiped at his eyes with the sleeves of his shirt. Was he nothing but that? He covered his face with his hands and sobbed into them. Why couldn't Damien love him like Pip did? Why did he bend and bruise him as he pleased? Pip let his hands drop on either side of him. He tilted his head back and his eyes widened. He was a toy. His lips parted. Damien's toy and he hoped that would never change.

---

A look of utter concentration was spread out across Kyle's face as he stared up at the cracks in his ceiling. This concentration broke, however, as the door to his room slammed open and the pale, white bundle of his brother ran in, leaping onto the bed and hovering over his brother.

"_Kyyyyyyyle_! I'm _booooooored_!" the boy whined, taking hold of Kyle's shoulders and shaking him.

Kyle rolled his eyes in annoyance "Leave me alone, Ike." he groaned in annoyance as the boy bounced on his stomach. Ike narrowed his blue eyes at Kyle, his lips formed a pout. "Let's do something fun, like when we were younger." he whined.

Kyle sat up, shifting his brother lower onto him. Red flooded his cheeks and he shoved his brother off completely. Ike squealed as he rolled off the bed. He gasped as his tail bone connected with the hardwood floor. He looked up at his brother tearfully. "What's your problem?!" he cried out in a small voice.

Kyle blinked and tugged at his pants. His privates had been so sensitive lately and it seemed that anything it made contact with felt good but Ike was his brother. It was wrong in many ways. Kyle sighed and reached out a hand to his brother who took it and pulled himself up to his feet. "Sorry." Kyle apologized and shrugged his shoulders. It was Saturday afternoon and his mind was begging for rest.

Ike shrugged "It's fine." he forgave and then grinned brightly "So can we hang out now?" he whined.

Kyle opened his mouth to retort a 'no' but before he could, something tapped against his window.

He sighed, what did the guys want now? He kicked his legs over the side of the bed and ran over the glass window, reaching as it pulled open by two filthy hands. He blinked and poked his head out. "Hullo?" he asked, his own voice echoed in his head as his eyes met with two crazed but familiar black ones.

"M-Mole?!" he cried out in surprise. The smoke from the French man's cigarette intoxicated the air around him but Kyle paid no mind to it.

"Yes." Christophe purred, his accent heavy. There was a bleeding gash on his temple and he was filled from head to toe with dirt and bruises. "I cannot stay here long." he mumbled, his cigarette twitching in between his lips.

"Kyle, who's that?" Ike asked from his spot on Kyle's bed.

Kyle turned to Ike "Out!" he yelled and Ike jumped up, scampering out of the room. Kyle turned to Christophe "Mole!" he cried out and wrapped his arms around the mercenaries neck. Christophe patted Kyle's back, secretly breathing in the redhead's scent.

"I thought you were dead." Kyle said breathlessly as they released each other. "I thought the guard dogs got to you." as he recalled the certain night of the U.S.O show.

Christophe's eyes glistened with an unfamiliar light and his smirk became catlike. "I have my ways." he said proudly. Kyle grinned and hugged him "I'm just so glad that you're alright." he said, his voice exhausted with relief. "Come in, come in!" he cried out and tugged at his arm.

Christophe pulled his arm away and his smirk became a frown "I can't." he grumbled "I can't be here long." he mumbled and pulled Kyle's hand up to his face, pressing his lips to Kyle's knuckles. "I promise that I will come back for you." he said, intensity beamed out from his eyes as he looked into Kyle's.

"But why can't you stay?" he asked, his eyes wide with sadness.

"I can't answer that now." Christophe whispered and leaned closer to Kyle.

Kyle's face reddened. "Mole?" he questioned in a whisper.

Christophe pressed his lip to Kyle's. Kyle's eyes grew gargantuan but he leaned closer to Christophe, his eyes eventually closing. Christophe tore away before the kiss could deepen and leapt from the second story, landing on his feet and vanishing into the backyard of another home.

Kyle's eyes remained closed, his hands rested on the window sill as he savored the moment and buried the kiss deep into his heart. Hopefully this wouldn't be the last time that his lips would meet Christophe's.

---

"COCK!" the tick sent the boy screaming obscenities out into the quiet street. A few snickers came from Craig's lips as he laced his fingers with Thomas'. "Say cock again." he ordered.

"Cut it out! FUCK! You know I can't -SHIT- control it!" Thomas cried out, his eyes slightly wide. Clyde, Tweek and Token shuffled after the two. Tweek, with his hands tied around his Starbucks cup and Token and Clyde with their hands in their pockets defensively.

"Where're we going?" Clyde questioned in annoyance after a while.

"Shut up, retard." Craig growled out at him and released Thomas' hand. Clyde's shoulders rose and he looked down after silently mumbling "I'm not."

Token glanced at him, nudging him and throwing him a friendly smile. Clyde faked a grin and glanced off towards the street. "PUSSY FUCK!" Thomas yelped as they approached an ice cream shop.

Craig stopped in front of the three boys sitting out front.

"Hey, where's your bitch friend?" Craig snickered at Stan, Kenny and Cartman, who were all sharing a sundae on the steps. Stan glared up "Who the fuck are you talking about?" he growled.

"You know, the redhead." Craig waved him off.

Kenny rolled his eyes "He has a name." he grumbled.

"And he's home, taking care of his brother." Stan mumbled in between spoonfuls of ice cream.

Clyde appeared at Craig's side "How much are one of those?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. Kenny and Stan glanced at each other and smirked evilly.

"We'll tell you if you can tell us the capital of Colorado." Kenny snickered.

Clyde glared "Fuck you guys." he growled and walked past them and into the shop. Token scurried after him, convincing him not to listen. Craig leaned towards Cartman "How about you, chubby-cheeks?" he questioned.

"Oi! Don't call me fat!" Cartman screamed and threw ice cream from his spoon and onto Craig's face. Craig's eyes widened in rage and leapt at Cartman, causing the sundae to topple over and spill onto the pavement. "Craig! FUCK! Don't -CUNT BUCKET- fight!" Thomas screamed in horror, his hands going to the sides of his face. Tweek lurched forward and wrapped his arms around Craig's waist, tearing him off of Cartman. Craig rose his face to reveal a bloody nose, his eyes narrowed in pure hatred at Cartman. "You stupid fatass!" he screamed. Cartman stood up, clenching his fists and grinding his teeth together.

Tweek released Craig when the raven-haired boy glared back at him.

"You're going to regret that, you asshole." Craig glared and rose his middle finger to Cartman's face.

"Bring it on you butt-fucking son of bitch!" Cartman barked, his face red from the scuffle. There was a bruise already forming on his cheek and his lip was bleeding profusely.

Stan and Kenny stood nearby just in case the two had to be wretched apart again but other than that, they did nothing to prevent the arguing.

Craig tore his glare from Cartman and began to walk into the shop. As he passed Stan the two looked at each other strangely.

"We never found out who won that bet." Stan whispered.

And for a few seconds, a hint of fear glistened in Craig's eyes.

---

Cartman cursed angrily under his breath as he threw himself onto his bed. His mother was at the door in seconds "Bad day, Hun?" she inquired sweetly.

Cartman's reply was muffled by the bed.

"Want me to bring up some doughnuts?" called his mother as she left the room.

Cartman's reply didn't change.

He lifted his head though as his cat, Mr. Kitty clawed it's way up the bed and beside him. He closed his eyes as the cat nuzzled itself against his face. He ran his hand over Mr. Kitty's arched back and rolled onto his side. "Damn it, Mr. Kitty. Stupid Craig wouldn't have picked that fight if that fucking Jew'd been there." he grumbled, recalling that Craig had first mentioned the lack of redheads in the group.

He sat up suddenly, as he heard knocking at the house's door.

"MOM!" he screamed "Who is it!?" he stood and shuffled to his room door.

"Hiya, Ms. Cartman!" came a stuffy-nosed but familiar voice. Cartman cursed under his breath as his mother confirmed the existence of the most annoying creature in the world. Leopold Stotch.

"Come on in, Butters. Cartman's up in his room." she informed him unnecessarily.

Cartman slapped his forehead at his mothers incompetence. Butter's rapid footsteps on the stairs echoed in Cartman's mind. He rubbed his temples and then sat down at the bed, crossing his arms over his chest. The door to his room opened wide and the blonde and cheery Butters barged into the room.

"Hey, Eric!" he greeted and went over, giving Cartman an unwanted bear hug.

Cartman shoved him off and then stood up, walking over to his desk. He sat down at his rolling chair and twirled around in it for a while.

"Didya hear?" Butters asked, bouncing onto Cartman's unmade bed.

"Hear what?" Cartman asked, snatching a pencil from it's case and scribbling on a notepad.

"About the people moving in." Butters said in a hushed tone. "Remember Damien?" he asked, his eyes widening. He fiddled with his fingers but didn't wait for Cartman's response "Him and his family are moving into the neighborhood." he said and nodded rapidly.

Cartman's head perked up "Damien?" he asked and furrowed his eyebrows "You mean, Fartboy." he corrected in a snicker.

Butter scratched the back of his head "Yeah well, he's moving back with his family. I heard he has siblings and his parents are super freaks." he nodded and bit his lip.

"He'll still be the new kid." Cartman grumbled "Him and his annoying brothers and sisters."

Butters bit his lip and laid back on the bed "Yeah but aren't you scared? They're enrolling into school and everything and they're weird." he mumbled, staring up at the ceiling.

Cartman scratched his chin "How about we give them a nice welcome?" he asked, a sadistic tone in his voice. Butters smiled brightly "That'd be great! We can have a party for them and everything!"

Cartman glared "No, you idiot." he growled "Let's prank them." he rolled his eyes.

Butters blinked and tilted his head to the side "But that's not very nice." he muttered.

"So?" Cartman snapped and Butters looked down.

"Well, o-okay."

---

"Do you think it's true?" asked Clyde in a small voice.

Token looked up, eyebrow arched. The two had been sitting out in the snowy park for about an hour, staring up at the darkening sky and thinking. Thinking quietly until Clyde asked his question.

"Do I think what's true?" Token asked, rolling onto his stomach in the snow. The white blanket had made an extreme contrast against his dark skin.

Clyde looked up at him "That I'm a retard." he said glumly.

Token rolled his eyes at his friend's remark "Look, you're only an idiot if you believe what those guys tell you." he said and sighed, his breath formed a small cloud.

Clyde sat up, trillions of flakes caught in his brown eyelashes "I mean, they're all right. I don't know the capital of Colorado and I might not know how to multiply but I just don't think it's enough reason to call me a retard." his lips trembled as he spoke, his eyes watering in frustration.

Token sat up as well and faced him, grabbing his shoulders and nearing his face to Clyde's "Dude! You're not a retard! Everyone here's just an idiot!" he yelled.

Clyde looked down "People tell me I'm an idiot so much lately, I'm starting to believe it..." his voice faded and he covered his face with his hands.

Token sighed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders "Your parents again?" he mumbled into Clyde's ear. He didn't mean to pry, but he did mean to help.

Clyde glanced up at Token through his teary eyes. "Yeah." he mumbled "They're going to take me out of school if I bring in bad grades this semester."

A look of devastation came across Token's face "What!?" he cried out "B-but there aren't any other schools!" he complained.

Clyde sighed "My dad's going to make me work at the shop." he muttered.

Token's frown deepened "A mechanic, dude?" he asked in horror.

"Either that or I pass this year." Clyde mumbled.

Token rubbed his face and shook his head "Isn't that illegal or something?" he asked, his eyes wide. Clyde shrugged "My parents are going to do it anyways." he answered in a mutter.

Token glared off to the side "Run away or something, you can come and live with me." he said softly. Clyde's face brightened up "Yeah!" he grinned "I'll do that!" he laughed and hugged him. Token snickered "I'll ask my parents and it'll be awesome and stuff and we'll have lots of fun!"

Token grinned and released his hug on Clyde. He blinked, though, when he noticed that Clyde didn't do the same. Instead, he looked down at Token, his expression was frozen and his cheeks were red.

"Clyde?" Token asked slowly, his hands clenched and unclenched nervously.

Clyde snapped his hands away and he glanced off "Sorry." he grumbled "I got kind of lost-" _kiss._

Clyde's eyes widened as he felt Token's lips press roughly against his own. It was an innocent, second long kiss but in their minds, it lasted a lifetime. When they broke apart, Clyde flustered.

"That was strange." Token mumbled awkwardly and pulled himself onto his feet, reaching out a hand to Clyde. He took it and pulled himself up as well. "Yeah but the good strange, right?" he asked, biting his lip.

Before Token got the chance to answer, they both noticed a dark figure sitting off on a park bench. Black eyes were focused in their direction. Clyde's eyes widened. "Do you think he saw?" he muttered to Token, who shrugged in response.

"I don't know but let's get the fuck out of here. He's creeping me out." Token said finally and grabbed Clyde's hand tightly. Clyde nodded and pulled out his cell phone.

"I'll just text Craig and see what he's doing." he mumbled. Token shrugged and tugged him towards the exit of the park, eyeing the still, dark figure sitting on it's own on that snowy park bench.

---

Cartman chewed on his pencil as he stared as his bulletin board. Only one note was posted, right in the center of the board and it read: 'Kyle'.

It was far more than being a prank on that one new family. Now Cartman had grown to the deep desire of exterminating the Jews in South Park. He scratched his chin and turned, facing his only companions, Butters and his beloved Mr. Kitty. He snickered and looked up at Butters.

"You in, Butters?" he asked with a wild grin.

Butters pulled his feet up to the chair and tapped his chin "I don't really get what we have to do. What do you mean 'kill Kyle'?" he asked, scratching the back of his head.

Cartman slapped his forehead "Look Butters, I didn't want to have to say this," he muttered and let out a small sigh "but you've left me no choice." he walked to the window and stared out into his backyard.

Butters' eyes widened "What is it?" he gasped in fear.

"People are starting to lose their minds, Butters." he said softly, reaching out and resting his hand against the clear glass window.

Butters blinked "W-what do you mean?" he stammered, slightly horrified.

"Kyle and his family, the new guys and others are all transforming. I think there's a virus going around and it's affecting them all." Cartman lied. "You see this?" he pointed at the bruise Craig had given him with a nice sucker punch. Butters nodded slowly. "Kyle did this to me." he lied again. "We were just sitting around and all of a sudden, he attacked me." Cartman nodded and Butters gasped.

"But Kyle is such a nice guy." Butters cried out.

Cartman shook his head "Not anymore." he said and placed his hands in his coat pockets. Butters bit his lip and grabbed hold of his head "I can't believe it." he whispered.

Cartman snickered quietly but his face went serious when Butter's looked up at him tearfully. "What do we do?" he asked in a cracked voice.

"We're going to have to kill them." he said, faking a look of devastation "Once this virus has gotten to you, there's no going back. There's no cure. You have to be killed or spread the disease." Cartman let out a fake sob and covered his face "It's going to be tough considering Kyle is my best friend but I'll deal with him. What I need you to do is keep a close eye on Stan and Kenny for me. Who knows if they're already infected." Cartman looked up and nodded towards Butters whose lower lip trembled.

"I know it's hard, Butters, but it has to be done." Cartman sighed.

"This is unfair." Butters whispered "Why him?"

"Life is unfair." Cartman responded and then he grinded his teeth together in a gruesome smirk.

_Fucking Jew._

_---_

_Crunch._ Sounded the apple as Kyle took a large bite out of it. Him, Stan and Kenny all sat huddled together in front of a local fast food restaurant. Stan bit into a burger while Kenny munched on fries Stan had treated him to.

"Hey, what's with Cartman lately? I mean, he's barely come out this weekend." Kyle questioned, after a long silence. Stan shrugged and Kenny leaned forward to look at Kyle.

"Maybe he's got himself a friend." he made a circle with his fingers and made an up and down movement. Kyle's face flushed with color at the thought. "Shut up, Kenny." he grumbled. "Thanks for the trauma." he added in a snicker. Stan grinned and leaned against his friend.

Kenny glanced at a watch he had won out of a cereal box and then stood. "I got to get going." he sighed and shrugged slightly. "Wait for me tomorrow by the stairs?" he asked, glancing at them both.

Kyle and Stan nodded and with a wave of the hand, Kenny was gone, hands in his pockets and walking down the sidewalk.

Stan and Kyle glanced at each other but Stan quickly tore his gaze away, his cheeks flushing. Kyle took hold of Stan's arm "Hey." he said softly.

Stan swallowed, he knew this conversation was coming.

"Can we talk about Friday night, Stan?" Kyle asked softly. Stan stuffed his burger wrapped into the paper bag he had been handed it in and turned to face Kyle. "Sure." he smiled nervously.

"What exactly happened?" Kyle asked in a hushed tone "Did we... You know." The last couple of words were whispers. Stan rubbed his face "I don't remember anything." Stan answered honestly. Kyle frowned and looked down "Oh." Stan looked up "I would like it if we had..." he muttered and then added quickly "Without Craig, obviously, but you and me, you know." Stan flashed the blushing Kyle a bright smile.

"So you like me?" he asked in a high pitched voice.

Stan laughed a bit but didn't answer. Kyle stared at him, his eyes hopeful.

"Why? Do you like me?" Stan teased. Kyle pouted "You tell me first!"

"No, you!" Stan argued.

"I asked first!" Kyle complained.

"So?" Stan rolled his eyes.

Kyle opened his mouth to say something but before he could get a word in, Stan smashed his lips to Kyle's, wrapping his arms around his neck and parting Kyle's lips with his tongue. Kyle's eyes widened and he fell onto his back. Stan pinned him down and pulled his face away. "Yes, I like you." he admitted and kissed his cheek. Kyle blinked a few times, staring up at Stan's glowing face.

"I like you too, Stan." he whispered.

---

Sunday morning came and Kyle awoke in a room too familiar to him with an arm that was too familiar to him and once again, naked. He shifted in the bed to face Stan, who was sleeping soundlessly. Kyle smiled and leaned forward, pressing his lips to Stan's forehead.

They had made love for the first time that night and they were well aware of it. Stan wrapped his arms around Kyle's waist and brought him closer. Kyle's face reddened as he felt Stan's body against his and he wrapped his arms around Stan's neck. "I love you." he whispered into the raven-haired boys ear.

Stan smiled sleepily and opened his right eye a crack. "Love you too." he mumbled and kissed Kyle softly. Kyle looked around Stan's room and stretched "My mom's going to have a fit." he muttered and rested his head against Stan's chest. He closed his eyes to the lullaby of his heartbeat.

"Just say you slept over and that it was totally last minute." Stan shrugged and rolled onto his back, pulling Kyle onto him. Kyle bit his lip and nodded slowly. "I guess." he mumbled.

Stan ran his fingers through Kyle's matted red hair and let out a long breath.

"I've got a game coming up." he muttered. Kyle glanced up at him "You know I'll be there to cheer you on." he smiled supportively.

Stan nodded as he recalled the handful of football games Kyle had assisted just to cheer Stan on. He smiled sweetly and let out a small sigh. "Kyle." he said, suddenly serious.

Kyle looked up at him "Hmm?" he grunted sleepily.

"Let's keep this our dirty secret, okay?" Stan mumbled.

Kyle blinked away the sleepiness "Our little secret?" he asked in a whisper.

"That's right." Stan nodded.

Our dirty little secret.

---

Stan rubbed his temples thoroughly as him and his three friends stood in the lunch line. Cartman was silent, miraculously. Kyle was quietly glancing off at the table in which Craig and his group were huddled and Kenny was picking dirt from under his fingernails.

As they walked up to the counter, Stan looked up at their negro cook and smiled brightly.

"Hey chef." three of the four piped up.

Cartman held up his tray quietly, his expression blank and unfriendly.

"Hello kids." Chef smiled, glancing strangely towards Cartman "What's up?" he asked slowly, scooping up mashed potatoes and letting it slip onto Cartman's tray and then dropping in two chicken wings.

"Nothing, it's Monday." Kenny groaned tiredly.

Chef laughed heartily and looked to Stan as the other three boys left. Stan tapped his fingers nervously on his tray and glanced around before looking up at Chef.

"Hey, Chef..." he mumbled and leaned towards him. "Let's say you like this girl but you can't be with her because everyone would hate you if you went with her, what would you do?" he asked.

"You love that girl like there's no tomorrow." Chef nodded, tapping his chin with his ladle "There's nothing like loving someone you're not allowed to." he smirked, past memories glinted in his eyes.

Stan grinned "Thanks, Chef." he laughed and then rushed off to join his friends.

He glanced around as he sat beside Kyle, setting his tray down. Cartman had gone off to sit with Butters and Kenny sat on the other side of Kyle.

"Hey, did you hear about the new kids?" Kenny asked suddenly, leaning forward and looking at them. Stan shrugged "Nope." he answered and scratched his chin, he was growing a small stubble.

"Are they here?" Kyle asked, looking around.

"Check it." Kenny played it out for them "Remember Damien? Remember the platypus situation?" he rolled his eyes when they didn't recognize Satan's own son. "Well, he's back and he's got these weird foster parents, I think, and he's got two younger brothers and a kid sister." he straightened up as he finished with his gossip. Kyle and Stan looked at each other. "Weird." they mumbled.

"Hey, Kyle. Can I talk to you alone for a minute?"

Kyle's eyebrows furrowed when Cartman approached him after school. "Why?" he asked in a murmur.

"I need to talk to you about something really important." Cartman sighed and rubbed his face "It seriously can't wait." he grumbled.

Kyle rolled his eyes and turned to Stan "I'll catch up later." he smiled. Stan glanced at Cartman and then back at Kyle nervously. He leaned forward and pecked Kyle lightly on the lips before turning and walking off with a confused Kenny. "Butt buddies?" his voice asked in surprise.

Kyle, growing red, turned to Cartman "Right, well. Let's go." he grumbled. Cartman rolled his eyes and led him into the closest classroom. He glanced into it, scanning for any other person. Kyle rose an eyebrow as he spotted Butters sitting on one of the desks, tapping his fingers nervously against the surface. "What's going on?" he asked slowly.

Cartman slammed the door after Kyle and clicked on the lock. Kyle's expression went smug "What are you getting at Cartman? Get out of the way, you're being stupid." he growled.

Cartman shook his head "I'm sorry, Kyle. I can't do that." he reached into his backpack and pulled out his baseball bat. "I can't let you spread that disease."

Kyle stepped back and he glanced at Butters "What is this all about!?" he cried out.

Cartman lunged at Kyle, swinging the bat for his head. Kyle jumped back and let out a cry "What the fuck, Cartman!?" he screamed. Butters let out a sob and covered his face, crying into his hands. Cartman swung again, this time the bat smashed into Kyle's temple. Kyle gasped and fell back against the teachers desk. He rose his hand to the side of his head and his eyes watered as a dreadful pain tore through his head. Blood poured down the side of his face and onto the floor. "CARTMAN!" he screamed, tears welling up in his eyes. Cartman swung the bat again and smashed it into Kyle's stomach. Kyle hunched over and fell onto his knees. Blood spewed from his mouth and he breathed raggedly. "St-stop." he whispered.

Cartman smashed the bat onto the back of Kyle's head and Kyle fell onto his stomach, clinging to consciousness. "Don't." he whimpered. Mucus, tears and blood mixed up over his broken face.

Cartman let out a small snicker "It has to be done, Jew." he growled and rose the bat yet again. Butters let out a wail, craning his head back and pulling at his hair.

Cartman let it fall, cracking Kyle's skull open and causing his brain to begin to leak out. Cartman let go of the bat, letting it drop to the floor and wiping his face, smearing Kyle's blood on his face in the process. Butters stood "I can't take this." he whimpered "I'll be outside." he rushed to the door, grabbing the handle shakily. Cartman looked up at him "Remember, tell this to no one." he growled.

Butters nodded and disappeared out the door.

Cartman turned to Kyle and turned him onto his back, staring down at the horror-stricken expression on the redhead's face. Cartman snickered and pulled a pocket knife from his back pocket, kneeling down beside Kyle and cutting open his shirt. He kissed the tip of the knife. "Go to hell, you fucking Jew."

He growled. _slash. slash. slash. _Six slashes at the boys chest and the swastika was imprinted deep on the boys pale skin. Cartman smiled in satisfaction. He stood, stuffed his bat and knife into his pocket and walked out, meeting the misery ridden Butters outside.

"Let's go before someone comes." Cartman sighed.

Butters let out a shuddered breath "Cartman, he didn't even do anything." he whispered.

Cartman rose an eyebrow "What?" he asked.

"He didn't fight back." Butters pointed out. "What exactly does this virus do?" he asked, his eyes wide.

Cartman narrowed his eyes "Look, are you going to let me handle this or not?!" he barked "Do you have any idea how hard that was for me?!" he screamed and clenched his fists.

Butters looked up at him "No..." he whispered.

Cartman rubbed his face "The virus is spreading fast, Butters. I think the only way to stop it, is it kill off the head." he nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets.

Butters blinked "Who's the head?" he asked softly.

Cartman rubbed his face "I... I can't tell you that now. With time." he muttered.

Butters rubbed his puffy eyes. "O-Okay." he muttered and began to stand.

Cartman sighed "There's other things we have to worry about." he nodded and began to walk down the hall, Butters running after him. "Like what?" he squealed.

"Bad stuff." Cartman grumbled.

As they walked away, a soundless shuffling was occurring in the air vents. One by one, screws fell from the ceiling. Before the metal piece could crash to the floor, a gloved hand caught onto it and pulled it up into the vents. Two booted legs swung down and from the vent jumped the blonde spy, Gregory.

"Jesus." he growled, his eyes narrowed after Cartman and Butters' fading figures. He scowled, ran a hand through his head and let out a sigh.

"Mole can't find out." he breathed.

---

"Kyle?" breathed a quiet voice into the empty dormitory.

The filthy Christophe scrambled off the branch and into the room, landing on his stomach. He walked to the bed and ran his fingers around the covers. "Kyle?" he whispered and glanced around. He soundlessly rushed to the bathroom and opened the door, poking his head in, but the boy was nowhere to be found.

He walked to the bedroom door and peeked out into the hall. Voice came from downstairs.

"Did Kyle ever come home beaten up or hurt?" asked a gruff man.

"No! Never!" sobbed Sheila's voice.

Christophe stepped out and glanced down the stairs. He spotted the backs of two police men, Kyle's parents sitting together on the sofa. Sheila had her face buried in a handkerchief and Gerald rubbing the bridge of his nose and letting out heavy sighs. Christophe rose his eyebrow. What happened? Where was Kyle?

He scowled and listened intently.

"When he left to school was the last you saw him?" questioned the same officer.

"Yes." answered Sheila in a quiet sob.

"Do you know who could have possibly-" the rest of the officers words were cut off as a pair of hands covered his ears. Christophe opened his mouth to cry out but he was pulled into the darkness of Kyle's room. His captor released him and he stumbled forward. Christophe turned, putting up his fists. He dropped them instantly as his eyes met with Gregory's.

"What do you want? I was listening." he growled. Gregory stared at him, his face was hard. Christophe scowled "Well, what is it?" he hurried. Gregory ran a hand through his hair.

"Kyle." he began but stopped quickly. Could he really tell Christophe that Kyle had been murdered? Christophe glared "You know?" he growled "What happened?! Where is my Kyle?" he grabbed Gregory's shoulders. Gregory flinched at the _my_ in his question.

"_Your_ Kyle?" he asked. Christophe's expression didn't relax. "Where is he?!" he sounded dangerous. Considering the mercenary had gone through hell and back, quite literally, he probably wasn't in the mood to hear that the love of his life had been murdered by some Nazi-fanatic psychopath.

"Tell me where he is!" Christophe's voice rose and he pulled a dagger from his pocket. "Or else I'll cut out your-" "He's dead."

---

"Hey, did you hear?" -- "About what?" -- "That ginger kid." -- "What about him?" -- "He's dead, dude."

Stan stared down blankly at his folded hands, beside him sat Kenny, glancing at Cartman whose careless expression seemed questionable. Kenny nudged Stan "Hey." he mumbled.

Stan didn't move, his eyes were glazed over in thought, his breathing was slow and his hair was matted down by his cap. "Why?" he whispered, his voice was hoarse and his eyes watered. His tears stung his eyes and his shoulders shook. Kenny sighed and hugged his friend comfortingly.

"It's bad luck, dude." Kenny whispered into Stan's ear.

"It wasn't his time." Stan sobbed into Kenny's shoulder.

"Too bad." Cartman shrugged and glanced off to the side.

Kenny glared "Shut the fuck up, stupid." he growled out and held Stan closer. Cartman rolled his eyes and shifted in his desk. Kenny looked up as someone tapped on his shoulder. He turned to face Clyde. He let out a strained sigh "What?" he groaned.

"Is it true?" he whispered. Kenny was about to flip him off but he stopped himself when he actually spotted a glint of sadness in Clyde's eyes. He was worried. Kenny sighed, at times it was hard to tell Craig and Clyde apart, considering Clyde spent his life living in his friends shadow. "Yeah." Kenny said softly. Stan sniffled against Kenny's shoulder, tears pouring from his eyes. He gritted his teeth and coughed slightly. Clyde looked down "I'm sorry." he muttered and moved back into his seat beside Token, who was glancing at him sadly.

"Okay, class. Mr. Mackey is going to have a serious conversation with you all about what happened a few days ago." Mr. Garrison spoke in a pestered voice. He went over and sat at his desk, resting his forehead against the palm of his hand. A few seconds later Mr. Mackey walked in as well.

"Hello students." he greeted quietly and stopped before the class.

Kenny ignored him and continued to comfort his one true friend left.

"A few days ago a horrible thing happened. The death of our fellow classmate Kyle Broflovski." he rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed "Rather, the murder." he corrected himself. As he went on with his speech, Cartman drummed his fingers against the corner of his desk, not really caring much for what Mr. Mackey had to say. A few seats behind him, Butters sat with his head in his hands and crying freely. His eyes stared out at Cartman miserably. "A moment of silence." Mr. Mackey finished quietly. No one spoke and he left a while later.

Only Stan's sniffles could be heard echoing in the lifeless classroom.

---

"Brighten up, dude. You've got a game coming up. You've got to get him out of your mind." Kenny muttered, rubbing Stan's back. They were sitting out on a bench by the football field.

He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Stan.

"I can't play, Kenny." Stan whispered, his eyes wide "Every time I look at something. I see him. I see Kyle." he sobbed and rubbed his face. Kenny looked up, a frown crossing his face.

"Guess who's coming over." he muttered and stood "I'll catch up later."

Stan slowly rose is gaze to look up at the violet figure he recognized as his ex-girlfriend. His lower lip trembled and he covered his face "I'm not in the mood, Wendy." he whispered.

Wendy rolled her eyes and sat beside Stan nevertheless. "Stan, I really want to talk to you." she said softly. Stan sighed "What?" he asked tiredly.

"I wanted to check that you were fine. I know Kyle was your best friend and it must be so hard for you to cope with losing him but I want you to know that I'm here for you." Wendy said softly. She reached for his hand but he snatched it away.

"I don't need your pity." he snapped and stood, walking back towards the school.

Wendy sat at the bench, her eyes wide as Stan left her. Bebe soon appeared at her side, reaching a comforting hand out to her.

"Guys are such asses." she mumbled and pulled Wendy up. "Nothing a little bit of shopping can't make up for." Bebe giggled. Wendy sighed and looked down, following after her friend slowly.


End file.
